Unleashed
by FootballFreak16
Summary: When shots go off in Afghanistan, and a family's father is killed, strange things start happening to Ronan. Excerpt: 'He watched as the plate began to grow a green slimy substance and melded all the broken pieces together.'
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

A man clad in black walks silently up a dark hill. His eyes are black and dangerous, revealing no sign of life. His musty black trench coat is yanked from him by the loud whistling wind, even though he holds onto it with all his might. His mouth abruptly creeps into a evil grin. He has found it, at last. Looming above him is a vast, victorian style building. Moss creeps up it's rock sides, and tall vines have clambered to a broken window on the top floor. Trees penetrate through the crumbly wall, leaving rubble collected on the floor beneath. A soft creaking sound can be heard as a figure inside shuffles across the wooden floorboards. The man takes this all in, and then moves noiselessly behind a thick oak tree detecting for more people inside. He finds no more, so he pulls a new black pistol from his back pocket and takes a few deep breaths. Firmly gripping the clasp, he surges brutally forward until he reaches the mouldy wooden door, kicking the painted slab with all his might.

About a half a mile away, four children are being ushered to sleep by their mother.

"Children, your father will be fine" she keeps repeating. But one boy, a young teenager with cold blue eyes begs to differ.

"No mother, you are wrong. You must wait, you are wrong"

The boy sprawls onto his mattress, pulling the itchy bedcovers up to his chin and immediately falls into a deep slumber. The mother looks worriedly at the sick child before her and leans to kiss his sandy forehead. She then stands up and looks around the small, dirty room at her four kids, all fast asleep. Wiping her hands on her ripped cotton dress, she stumbles out of the dark room into a kitchen. Dirty plastic plates are stacked near a bucket full with a few drops of water. The walls are half broken, revealing the dark desert beyond. A splintered wooden chair sits at one dark corner of the room. She sits down on the damp ragged carpet in the middle and buries her face in her hands, hoping for the best. A second later, she hears wild gunshots echoing through the dark night sky. Her face melts and she starts crying uncontrollably, mentally pushing out the cries of 3 children from the other room. One child is still asleep, his blue eyes concealed behind his dark eyelids, oblivious to the cries of the rest of his family around him.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"Ronan War! If you are not here in five freaking minutes I will kick your sorry little arse back to that retarded orphanage!" shouted a loud, scratchy, annoying voice.

"I'm coming!" shouted back a young teenager, sitting on a Mahogany desk and listening to "The Captain" by Biffy Clyro. His room was a mass destruction of half finished art, shoes, socks and school books strewn everywhere. Opposite the desk was a trophy cupboard, each shelf stacked with Maths, Science, Art, English and P.E. trophies. Next to that was his blue bed, the mattress stained with dirt from the previous occupants and the quilt so old that it had mould growing on it. Ronan hopped off his desk and unplugged his headphones.

Taking a quick glance around his room, he jogged out of the door and down the newly polished stairs ahead. Hand on the banister, he examined the paintings on either side of him for the millionth time, stopping hastily to see his favourite, a girl being tortured in a ruthless manner by some thugs. He smiled inwardly for a moment, then trundled down the remaining stairs to a bright pink hallway. He mentally belched at the colour but carried on anyways, coming to a stop before a red living room. A young blonde woman was seated on a luscious red sofa and across from her, her brunette husband was seated on a metal stool. In between them was a expensive glass table with a basket full of chocolates placed in the middle. The round glass surface was embedded with jewels and crystals. From the room only, you could tell that his foster parents were well off.

As Ronan trudged slowly into the room, head down, his foster parents turned to look at him. Slightly raising his head he said "Fanta, Mike" nodding in their direction.

"Ronan" replied his foster father, returning the gesture. After giving her husband a long, cold stare, Fanta turned and observed Ronan.  
He had messy black hair, that had grown till the nape of his neck. Stunning green eyes peeked through the curtain of hair, and his pale lips formed a never changing straight line. His skin was a soft tanned colour from staying outside for too long, usually reading or playing football.

"Ronan, dishes. Now" Fanta demanded, her brown eyes piercing into his own.

Pleasuring his foster mother with a angry stare, Ronan turned around and trudged towards the black kitchen opposite.

The first thing he came into contact with as he entered the kitchen was a horrible stench, coming from heaps of dishes piled in the sink, and on the countertop. Ronan groaned loudly, inwardly swearing at his foster parents for making him do all their dirty work.

Walking towards the full white basin, he picked up the green sponge from a rack resting near a silver fridge. He took a few more steps until he reached the sink. Rolling his blue sleeves up, Ronan twisted the cold metal tap, letting out a burst of gushing, cold water. He picked up the sponge again, which he had laid down on the marble countertop and drowned it in the cold water. Ronan felt the cold water hitting his hands, and he smiled unknowingly.

He had always loved the water. He was an amazing surfer, and the best at swimming. When he was younger, his father, his REAL father, used to take him to the beach near their house every day, where they would practice in the water. His dad taught him all sorts of tricks, from standing on the surfboard to doing a headstand while catching a wave.

Suddenly, a sharp painful prick stung the palm of his hand. His smile disappearing, Ronan pulled his now wet hand out of the shower of water and inspected it. There was a clean cut on the palm of his hand, shaped weirdly. To him, it almost looked like an 'S'. He softly traced the scar with his other hand, feeling the bumps of his skin underneath his finger. As he reached the end of the scar, an electric shock passed through him, shooting his hand away from his palm. A plate behind him shattered. Ronan turned his head, surprised to see the plate had just broken without even moving a millimetre. He stood up, shaking, just as Fanta shouted "Ronan! Did you break a plate?" Ronan backed away from the sound of his foster mothers shrill voice, and looked confusedly at the plate, trying to hide the frustration bubbling inside him. He was scared of Fanta, he knew that, even though he had never showed it.

When Fanta and Mike had adopted him at the age of 7, they had been sincerely nice to him and gave him whatever he wanted. But, as his 8th birthday dawned upon him, they had taken away all his privileges and made him do chores every day. Fanta had changed from a loving, caring Forster mother to a hatred filled, scary foster mother.

Ronan snapped bak to reality at the sound of his foster mothers high-heeled clatter coming towards him. He turned towards the plate, scared, and willed it to fix itself.  
'Wait. What am I doing? How the hell is a plate going to fix itself with me willing it so?' he thought to himself. He turned back to the plate and heard his foster mother coming closer. He knew it would be stupid to try and hide the plate, Fanta would just count the plates and find one missing.

Breathing heavily, he glimpsed to the door just in time to see a black high-heel poke through the bottom of it.

Worriedly, turning back to the plate, he picked up all of the pieces in his hands and, cradling them, slouched down onto the floor. He looked down at the broken white pieces and a teardrop he didn't realise he had cried rolled down his cheek and splattered onto one of the peices. He thought of all the punishments he would endure for breaking the plate. He looked back down at the plate, hearing his foster mothers heels clatter on the kitchen floor, just behind the counter he was leaning on.

He watched as the plate began to grow a green slimy substance and melded all the prices together. He laughed at his hallucinations as the now green slimy plate became white and was restored to its normal colours. Ronan laughed once again just as his foster mother turned the corner and saw him sitting there. Her brown eyes held a strong hatred as she pinched his arm and pulled him up with just her fingernails.

"WHERE IS THE PLATE, RONAN?" she screeched and started counting all the plates, only to find all the plates were there. "You dirty, stupid child!" she screamed and grabbed the plate he was holding. Looking at it angrily, she chucked it onto the floor, shattering it again. She stomped out of the kitchen leaving Ronan staring shocked at the plate.  
'That wasn't a hallucination' he repeated continuously in his head.  
Ronan stood up shakily and held onto the marble countertop moving slowly around and walking out of the door.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 **

Ronan entered his room and pushed the door, shutting it. He fell forward onto the dirty mattress and brought his hands into his hair, pulling a few strands while twisting the locks around his hands. Groaning, he rolled over onto his stomach and stared blankly at the white ceiling.  
An hour later, a hand opened the door and sneaked inside, switching off the light. The door shut with a creak. Ronan grabbed the blanket, picked off the new mould, and snuggled in.

Ronan woke to the sound of hushed voices and the soft clatter metal. He opened his heavy eyelids slowly to see white, blinding his vision and forcing him to shut his eyes again.

"Shut up! He's awake!" He heard a voice, raised slightly higher than the others. It sounded manly but female at the same time.

He tried to open his eyes again, only to see the blinding white again. He forced his eyes not to close and they slowly adjusted to the light.

He was in a large white room, with white stair off to the far right and a big mirror to his left. He looked down to see he was sleeping on a white hospital-type gurney. Looking back up, he saw a bunch of people, all with hairnets and white lab coats, staring at him. A few white marble desks were lined up on his right side with coloured chemicals in test tubes, and a few red buttons emerging out.

Ronan turned back to the crowd and put on his non-emotional face.  
"Where am I?" He asked bravely. All the people looked back and forth to each other, each one daring another to answer his question. A young teenager with light brown hair and grey and gold specked eyes stepped forward.

"Sorry, , but that information cannot be disclosed to you at this moment in time. But, if you come with me, I can tell you a little about why you are here, and maybe what has happened" She spoke formally to Ronan and held out a tanned hand.

Ronan grunted and swung his legs off the bed. He stood up and glared at the girl, not bothering to take her hand.

"Lead the way"

She turned her head around and strode forward, Ronan closely following her. She walked to the right of the room and up the few steps.

"Supernatural" she spoke, and a slab of the floor rose upwards revealing a metal machine. The girl walked up to the metal box and placed her hand on the top.

"Scanning... Ms Blast. Access Granted" a female voice sounded.

Ronan watched the girl as she stepped backward and the machine sunk back into the ground. Then he heard a groaning sound and the wall in front of him split in two. The girl walked purposefully through and Ronan followed her into a green, long hallway. He looked around him at the gruesome paintings on the walls and at the identical brown numbered doors. They stopped at door no. 265. The girl clasped the golden handle and opened the door, walking inside and having a seat on the bed. She looked at Ronan.

"This will be your room, Ronan" She smiled.

"Aren't you scared of being in a room with me? I'm suspecting you know what I can do." Ronan growled back.

"Don't worry about me, I can protect myself" she smirked and motioned for Ronan to sit down next to her. Ronan slammed the door and sat down.

"What is your name?" He asked.

"Alex. Alex Blast" She replied, "Now do you want to know why you were brought here?" Ronan nodded his head.

"This is the home of supernatural creatures, or as we call them, supernaturalists. All the supernaturalists here are in training. There are different sorts of Supernaturals. Demons, Angels, Vampires, Shapeshifter's and Witches. Each supernatural has a power, too. I am an Angel, and I have the power of speed. You are a Demon, and you have the power of Creation and Telekinesis. We have about 250 trainee supernaturalists here" Alex said, then let out a long breath, "Dude, is it OK if I, like, stop with the freaking formality? It's really doing my head in"

Ronan laughed and nodded his head.

"Thanks, mate. Ok... so where was I? Oh yeah! So yeah we have like 250 and they all are, like, cool... but the thing about you is that everyone hates demons! And, like, that your the last demon on earth and everyone wants to kill you and blah blah blah... and yeah... so that's why your here! Any questions?" Alex asked.

Ronan looked at her, "You are joking about the killing thing right?"

"Nope"

"Oh"

"Yeah... mate, I feel for you"

"Thanks?"

Alex looked at Ronan, her eyebrow up, and smirked.

"Oh, don't fret, big guy! You'll live!" she said tousling his hair.

Ronan looked down at Alex's face.

"I will." He confirmed.

Alex smiled and stood up to leave.

"Ok, big guy. Training starts tomorrow at 7a.m. Sharp. Don't worry! I'll be here to pour freezing cold water on you if you don't wake up on time!" She laughed and walked out of the door.

Ronan looked at the room he was in. The room was quite big. He was sitting on a double bed that was in the middle of the room. There was a 54 inch Mac, and a 98 inch TV to his right and a door and a desk to his left. He walked up to the door and opened it to see a fully furnished bathroom inside. Ronan walked back to the bed and pulled his t-shirt off, then lay down on the bed and covered himself with the fresh green blanket. He was asleep within minutes.


End file.
